Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1887-07-01
MASTER OFTHE PEAK.

| 49,
artist can paint. And 1 love your neice,
| and she has given me reasons to hope
tnat in time can win her affection, and
If you will give her to me will do m =
| best to make her happy"
"D.ar me-" said Mrs. Remington, 'all
this Is very sudden"
! Mrs. Remington, who was the sister of
| a rich NEWCOMER, had an abiding idea
| that her niece Madeline Dug hit to marry
| rich man.
"Shes very handsome" mentally
reasoned Mrs. Remington, "and she Is
accomplished, and she made quite a SEN
sation in society this winter when she
was introduced, and if such girl as this
| isn't to marry well then | don't know who
is. And the idea of this farmer fellow
coming here to put in his pretensions
| when there are so many eligible young
| men in society"
eyes," said Mark, quietly, 81 suppose
it seems sudden to you. All these things
| do seem sudden ct the last"
| I'm sure l don't know what Mr.. Vassar,
| her pa, will say" said Mrs. Remington,
| putting her head feebly to one side.
| When Mr.. Vassar returned Madeline
| told him her hearts secret at once, for
| the bond of affection between this father
| and daughter had always been very ten
| der and close.
! $50 you love him, dear" said Rufus
| Vasrar.
| ooh, yes, papa"
Enough to give up all the tlipperies of
fashion for his sake!".
| yes, papa!' uttered the girl, wit
emphasis.
| and to become farmers wife in the
| White moHntains!"
| "Oh, yes" cried Madeline earnestly
| Papa, may 1 write him to come"
| Not just yet, child" said Nj. Vassar.
| give got little business to transact
up in Albany before 1 can consider my
| self fairly settled at home. But at the
end of a couple of weeks or so"
Papa, you are a darling" cried Made
| line.
| "Stop, stop, Miss Precipitancy!" erie d
| Mr.. Vassar. II have not promised any
thing yet, either one way or the other
| But you're going to, papa-I know
| you're going to-" cried Madeline, dane
| ing joyfully about.
| wen see," said Hr. Vassar.
| The great wood fires blazed up the
chimneys of Purple Peak farm. casting a
red reflection through the twilight on the
| mountain roadside, when a stout, elderly
man walked up to the door and knocked
resolutely on its panels.
! Can you keep me here all night, young
| man." he said. "Mr. Rist, of Portceast er,
| sent me here to have a power of attorney
drawn out, and [ haven't passed any
| hotels
! No, l should think not" said Mark
| Pinlimmon, with CHEEKY laugh. 1--WE
| don't deal much in hotels along this road.
But you are kindly welcome to stay here
| as long a. you like MIR"
"Middieworth" said the stranger.
| "Rufus Middleworth.'
And he sat down his valise and looked
| around him at the dark, oiled wainscot-
ing, the ceiling traversed by monster
beams, the latticod easements, the old
oak settles on each side of the blazing
| logs.
You seem to have fire farm here,
| Mr.. Plinlimmon," said he, land finely
kept"
Its not bad" said Mark, carelessly.
And everything is the real old English
style"
Yes" said Mark, ait belongs to an old
Lincolnshire family who took fancy to
settle out here. They got to dabbling in
railroads share and failed. The daugh-
| ter went back to their old friends in Eng
! land, such as they lad. The father blew
his brains out in New York The estate
was sold at foreclosure. | bought It.
That's the history of Purple Peak farm"
One by one of the different members of
| the family dropped In as he sat talking
with Mark Plinlimmon. Old Mrs. Pin
limmon was frst-a mild, white haired
aatron with soft, wistful eyes; then a
| rms oh nd &c
'Their father and mother are dead
| observed Mark, 80 l adopted them, and
fine fellows they are"
Not bad symptom" said Middle
| worth Nassat to himself. "But, of course
most people are good to their own kith
! and kin"
And then entered most majestic old
man, with long, white hair hanging over
his shoulders, leaning on cane.
And this" said Mark, lis our Uncle
Joe" Fastening as he spoke to set an easy
CHAIR for the ancient patriarch. Uncle
Joe, this is Mr.. Middleworth, whs has
| come from Portcaster. l have invited
him to stay all night, if you do not OBJ
iect."
| Uncle Joe waved his hand like an old
! prince.
1
| Mark. In fact, any friend Of yous is
welcome to Purple farm" And then he
| began to warm hi nself at the blaze and
| fell into a sort of revery.
| Uncle Joe, whoever he might be. was
| evidently the person of most considsra
| ton In the little household. He sat at
! the head of the little takle and said grace
| before meat, and had the wsrmest corner,
| the easiest chair, the most tender consi-
! deration; and finally. when he trudged
| upstairs to bed, Mark dutifuily held the
door open for him TO pass through, and
| Mr.. Mlddleworth asked with some inter
| est
! Who is that old gentleman? He has
a very fine face. OF course know that
he Is your uncle, but who"
NO" said Marx Plinlinmon. smiling
| The Is not my uncle at all. He is no re-
| lation in the world to me-"
! Then who does he belong to-"
| He belongs to nobody, He is a sort
| OF cousin to Mr.. Hesdexter, the English
man who built the house. He went with
| the young women to Lincolnshire, but he
| was not welcome there. He was old YOU
see, and penniless, aud past work. So he
came back here, and they put him in the
| vork.house. But think the shock and all
I NSNNhS1 MS LhiiHA, one udy We lOunC
him on the steps. 4 have come home
| he said. The work-house authorities sent
| for him but l wouldn't let him go back
| He Is very old, you see, and very feeble.
| and perhaps they wouldn't be quite so
| considerable of him as they ought. So
here he remains, fancying that he is mas
| ter of Purple Peak farm. and that we are
| his friends and visitors. lie isn't the
| least bit of trouble, bless his kind old
| SOUL" Marx added, alphabetically, and
If 1t was my father or yours, aloze in the
| world, don't you SEE
Mr.. Plinlimmon, you are right"
shouted Mr.. Middleworth, astonishing the
young msn jumping mp aud ringing his
hand vehemently. I'm quite satisfied
| now"
Il beg your pardon, j" said Mark, in sur
prise.
About the relationship" said Mr..
Middlevorth. Il confess il puzzled me
little at first
He started to return to New York the
next day; still he did not ,SiSuIge his
personality.
month subsequently, when Msrk
came to the city in response to iovfuI
letter from Madeline, he was conducted
into the library, where an elderly gentle
man sat.
Hers Is papa, Mark" said Madeline.
How do you do. Mr.. Middleuofsh -
said the amazed son law elect